Shattered
by thosecunningslytherin
Summary: Clara's already insane life is turning inside out. Her dreams about a man called the Doctor landed her in a mental facility, but when one of his companions arrives, Clara believes now more than ever that she's not crazy.


Clara Oswald nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard her nurse's voice behind her. She hadn't even heard him unlock the door.

"Breakfast in thirty," Alex announced.

Clara turned from the heavily barred window to face him. "No surprise there," she said wryly. Breakfast was always at 7:30, and Alex always came around at 7 to wake everyone up and tell them to be ready.

"None at all. Can't sleep?"

"No," she admitted. Truthfully she had had a nightmare about the Doctor and had been awake for hours now, gazing out the window, lost in thought.

In her nightmare the Doctor was dying. Not dying as in regeneration, but actually dying. An astronaut shot him once, and then again when he was regenerating causing him to die. That was all Clara had seen in her nightmare, and it was beyond confusing.

She would puzzle over it for the day, and then tonight or tomorrow or the day after Clara would see the rest of the nightmare/dream. It was like a TV show, except it felt real.

It always happened at night.

Clara would see things when she went to sleep. The Doctor's life, his memories, his adventures. They were so lifelike that if she didn't wake up in the morning in her own bed she would think she was really there.

There was a huge part of her that truly believed the Doctor was real. How could Clara have dreamt all that up on her own? But there was another, smaller part that wondered. Wondered if she was truly insane; how could she not? She was bound to have doubts, especially since no one had ever heard of the Doctor before. That still, small voice was ever present, whispering words of

"You know, you can ask for something for it if you want," Alex said. His brows were furrowed in concern.

Clara appreciated his concern, but the last thing she wanted to do was take more pills than necessary. Besides, they might stop her dreams, and she didn't want to do that either. "Thanks. I'll . . . keep that in mind."

Alex left her alone to get ready, which consisted of changing into clean sweats and a shirt and brushing her teeth at the bathroom at the end of the wing.

They were pretty lenient with patients at this facility. Patients were allowed to wear their own clothes, but everything had to be inspected and approved and only a quarter of Clara's closet was allowed, which forced her to wear sweatpants all the time. Each wing had its own bathroom for the patients, but it was monitored at all times and you could only shave under the observation of a nurse. Razors were very sharp, after all.

Breakfast was served in the abnormally sterile cafeteria until 8:30. It was mostly just cereal, but sometimes they were treated to pancakes that were, of course, already cut up.

The large cafeteria was painted a hideous shade of yellow that made Clara's eyes hurt if she stared too long. A lot of the patients divided their time between the cafeteria and the rec room. There was always a bit of food in the cafeteria, and the rec room had board games and magazines and even a TV. It wasn't like being at home, but it was definitely better than staying in your room all day.

Clara plopped down next to her friends Emma, Amber and Vicky after grabbing a bowl of Cheerios. They had been talking about a new patient, but Clara was only slightly interested.

"She's kind of old," Amber said.

Vicky pointed her plastic spoon at Amber. "Don't be rude."

She rolled her eyes. "She doesn't look crazy. She actually looks pretty sane to me. I wonder what she's here for . . . " Amber trailed off.

Clara raised an eyebrow. "Are your gossip tabloids getting boring? You're back to this again? Besides, _we_ look pretty sane."

_I _am_ sane, _Clara thought but didn't say.

Amber huffed. "No, they aren't. And you can never be too entertained around here. Why would I stop digging around?"

Amber was one of those people that came off as shallow and annoying when you first met them. Clara couldn't stand her at all at first, but after a while she realized Amber was actually compassionate and caring. She just didn't have a filter when she spoke. And often said the wrong things. Clara wasn't entirely sure, but she guessed that Amber was anorexic.

"Well, try not to be too nosy." Clara grinned, because she knew that would never happen. Amber grinned back.

They were interrupted by another patient having a semi mental breakdown. Apparently his breakfast had been poisoned in an assassination attempt by his vengeful ex-girlfriend, whom Clara knew was deceased.

It would've been funny to watch if it wasn't extremely sad. Suddenly sickened, Clara turned away, unable to watch anymore. That didn't stop Amber from keeping a running commentary. Two muscular guys that were more guards than nurses sedated the patient and led him away. Clara shuddered to think where.

"Would you look at that," Vicky frowned, but her tone was light. "All before 8 o'clock."

Emma spoke up for the first time. "Why do you find this so funny? This is serious. Matt couldn't help it." She stood so abruptly that she knocked over her chair, and then she stormed off, snapping at the on duty nurse about going back to her room.

They watched her go, astounded. Emma rarely spoke, and an outburst like that was completely unusual.

Vicky frowned, her hazel eyes narrowed in confusion. "What the hell was that?"

"How are we supposed to know?," Clara said.

"I'm officially worried now. She never acts like that."

Amber waved a hand dismissively. "We'll see her later and she'll act like it never happened. It was nothing," she said, but she sounded as if she was trying to convince herself and not them.

Clara played along. "You're probably right."

An uncomfortable silence ensued before their conversation returned to the new patient. They didn't know her name, but Amber was hellbent on finding out. She had done this before (which was what Clara was talking about earlier) - became obsessed with a new patient, dug around their past and maybe their file to find out everything about them only to be disappointed with the reality because she had dreamt up something different in her head. She would get over it eventually. And then a new patient would come along.

"You do this for every new person! Aren't you bored by now?" Clara asked.

Amber shook her head fiercely, her blond ringlets swaying from side to side. "Every person is different. How could it ever get boring?"

Clara let it slide. There was no arguing with Amber when she got like this. She had that crazy woman on a mission look in her eyes.

"Hell, its so boring around here that I'm volunteering to help this time," Vicky declared.

Amber smiled slightly, but it turned into a full on grin when her eyes fixed on something behind Clara. "I think that might be sooner than you think."

"What is it?" Clara asked, turning around. "What are you loo-"

She gasped when her eyes landed on a tall redheaded woman. The woman was instantly familiar, and it took Clara just a second to realize why.

She had been a companion of the Doctor's.

* * *

**A/N: I previously had a story up called Shattered with the same premise, but after re-reading it and realizing it was one big mess I decided just to delete it and re-write it. So if you had read that story, I promise I'm not just stealing the idea off someone else. **

**So what do you guys think? Please review, favorite or follow if you liked the chapter as it makes my day and also helps improve the story :) I hope you enjoy it!**


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